Green Dragon Totem Chapter 12 Part1

What do you think you are.

Xie Yun's voice had no contempt or negligence, and on the contrary, was very calm as if everything was for granted.

—yet precisely because of this, it let people feel from the bottom of their hearts, a more distinct and bitter sting.

"Truly words that you can use." What was surprising was that Jing Ling did not abruptly turn angry, and only raised his jaw a bit. His height was tall to begin with, and with this lift, it had an att.i.tude of looking down from above with disdain out of the corners of his eyes:

"Indeed before the Cloud Messenger I count as nothing, but if I were you, I would not say these words were I alone, and unable to protect myself."

Xie Yun lightly said: "How do you know that I am alone here?"

His words had yet to conclude, not far away the vegetation began to shake, and the branches waved, and in the darkness the sound of metal friction sounded all around, as if several people suddenly appeared from the void to surround this mountain road.

Behind him the disciples of the famous sects had sensed this, and immediately looked around in stupefaction: "What?" "What's going on?"

Yet the situation did not wait for their comprehension, when Jing Ling gave a cold laugh: "Then what if the ones who wish to stop you, was not just me?"

As he spoke he raised a hand to his lips, and made a loud whistle—

Huo—!

Within the curtain of night amidst the mountain slopes, with rock on all sides, there suddenly appeared several tens of shadows, armed to the teeth with bows and arrows in hand, overlooking the people surrounding this mountain. Zhou Yu blurted out: "Mysterious Demon School!"

Jing Ling coldly said: "Before coming to Sword-Forging Manor I truly did not expect to meet you, during these two years everyone has been keepings tabs on your movements, but you don't leave the capital without imperial decrees, and thus everyone was also helpless. After I recognised you I immediately sent a messenger eagle to the Sect Leader and the elders, and these troops today, all rushed from the Huainan region to guard the carriage."

Xie Yun asked: "Guard whose carriage?"

"No, to protect you."

"Me?"

Jing Ling leant down by Xie Yun's ear, and whispered: "If anyone had seized a valuable spoil of war, it must be carried back under severe protection, no?"

Xie Yun closed his eyes and faintly nodded, and after a short while finally opened his eyes and said: "So to speak, today you and I must have a fierce battle here."

—when he spoke this sentence his voice was extremely strange, with the first words being the gentle and soft voice of these past few days, with an accent hard to differentiate as male or female, and then the voice grew heavier, and at the last word it became a deep and low, clear, and deeply magnetic timbre.

That voice was actually very attractive, only n.o.body would find the meaning in those words equally attractive.

Yet Jing Ling shook his head, showing a cold mocking laugh: "I'll tell you one more thing, Cloud Messenger, for you to ponder."

"—Yuwen Hu has already commanded five hundred personal soldiers on imperial edict to go down south from Chang'an, to reach the Suhang region in a few days' time."

"I heard that at that time when you were sent away to Mobei, it was because while you were in the Palace you ruthlessly entrapped Yuwen Hu, causing him to lose prestige and almost lose his life. So, you guess if Yuwen Hu comes to Sword-Forging Manor this time, and find you here empty-handed and your internal force all gone, how excited would he be to meet an old acquaintance in a strange land?"

"I…"

Xie Yun had just spoken when he abruptly stopped, suddenly raising his eyes to glance towards the distant dark mountain forest, an unclear thread of surprise flitting across his eyes.

Right then, lightning streaked across the skies, and rolling thunder howled past, following which a pillar of lightning appeared over everyone's heads—

Boom—crash!

Two great explosions rocked the heavens and the earth, enough to even shake the rock under everyone's feet!

Everyone instantly grabbed onto trees and rocks, yet to recover their footing, when they saw the lightning alight end in some direction, and suddenly explode into snow-white flames!

"No… not good!" Chen Haiping blurted: "That's the back mountain villa!"

Below the precipice.

Shan Chao took unsteady steps, standing on a slightly taller rock, and yelled: "Young Master!"

Wind blew and gra.s.s waved all around, but there was no reply.

He had already reached the bottom of the cliff, and Fu Wenjie was bound to be somewhere near, yet the surroundings were so dark that he could not even make out his fiver fingers were he to stretch out a hand, and when he leapt down he had not had time to grab a lantern, so for a while he was unable to find even his own shadow.

Shan Chao took a deep breath, and from his lungs came a fiery feeling reeking of blood.

Just then when he had leapt down he had fallen, and the force of his fall was too fierce, so an internal injury was unavoidable. Yet this was not the time to stop for a rest, while he was still at the peak of his strength and the downpour had yet to come he must find Fu Wenjie, otherwise even if the latter was still alive, he would not be able to live through the icy torrential rainstorm of autumn.

With one hand Shan Chao pressed onto the side of his abdomen, gasping for a while, and once his eyes had adjusted to see better in the gloom, he suddenly realised that within the under-bush ahead there seen to be nestled a silhouette.

"Young Master!"

He strode forward and turned over that silhouette, giving it a complete look all over. It was indeed Fu Wenjie's outline, only that the face was covered in mud and soil, presumably having suffered several injuries during the fall. Checking that his pulse and breathing were extremely feeble, if he had been later by a quarter, there would presumably be very little chance to live.

Shan Chao gritted his teeth and started to imbue Fu Wenjie's torso with internal energy, the warm flow gently converging, and only after a while when he could sense this Young Master's heartbeat steadying, then did he give a sigh of relief.

How would they go up?

Shan Chao raised his head to look to the precipice, and then his brows jumped, as if within the dense undergrowth and the gloomy night, he could keenly sense an inauspicious feeling.

—shua!

Lightning streaked across the skies, and distantly the Sword-Forging Manor was brightly lit, and in that flash, a stretched-out shadow snaked towards his back, with something in its hands lifting high up—

Shan Chao's pupils shrank, like a cheetah on the verge of dashing, and turned around to let out a punch!

Yet in that instant it was too late.

With a heavy thud, he only felt as if the back of his head had heavily knocked into something, as if his brains would splatter out of his skull, and then everything before his eyes blacked out!

He had not even made out who was the ambusher, when he just fell without warning into the dark abyss of his consciousness.

Who am I?

Where is this?

Punches fell down like raindrops, with shouts, beatings, and the cries of children in the surroundings, both distant and clear…

This is…

The young Shan Chao huddled up with all his strength against the fists and feet, fiercely protecting the dirty half-piece of naan1 in his arms, no matter the acute pain from his stomach, back and legs.

The unbearable heat of hunger gnawing anxiously in his belly, and covered in blood and dirt all over, he was even more a sorry state than the bone-thin wild dogs kicked all around the roadside.

I'm going to die, he thought in the haze.

Going to die.

The tent was suddenly opened, and the sounds of the market outside with humans and horses drifted in clearly, the slave owner distantly shouting a few words in the barbarian language.

"Hey! Hey! Don't beat anymore!"

"Kuba called him over!"

"Don't beat anymore!" The surroundings fell quiet, as the barbarian's hoa.r.s.e voice rang out:

"Someone wants to buy him."

A thin silhouette appeared at the doorway, casting a long shadow under the light streaming in from outside, as it walked into the tent, and stopped.

Before the young Shan Chao there appeared a pair of dusty leather boots, stained with a lot of dust, and reinforced with copper rivets, looking extremely st.u.r.dy.

He shrank back on conditioned reflex.

These boots would hurt if kicked on him, he knew.

Yet for a long time there was no movement, no scolding and no blows, those pair of boots did not even have the intention to move.

"……"

Young Shan Chao finally raised his head, and tried to look up through his sight which was blurred by the mixture of blood and tears.

There was a person standing against the backlight, the tall and straight figure wrapped in a slightly yellowed cloak of rough cloth, with a long sword wrapped around in rags behind his back, his whole body still having the air of a long and difficult trek, currently looking down at him.

A silver mask was worn on this person's face, covering the bridge of his nose and over half his face, yet from the silhouette of his lower jaw it could be seen that he was still very young.

Young Shan Chao dragged his bruised body to curl back, his face filled with vigilance, and from his eyes there was an expression of doubt, fear and a thread of hope all mixed together.

That person finally gave a small sigh, and from his cloak he randomly flung out a cloth bag, which audibly landed on the ground before the slaver's feet, with strings of coppers rolling out from the bag.

Following which he bent his waist, and reached out a hand to Shan Chao—

That was a hand, five fingers rather long, with the palm facing up, though it had thick sword calluses, but it was a slender, strong and rather good-looking hand.

"I've bought you."

Behind the mask his dark and intent eyes looked back at Shan Chao directly, as he said:

"Come with me."

Deep in the desert it was spa.r.s.ely populated, with the winds stirring up from the distant horizons, flying over the sand dunes extending forever into the distance, with large clumps of desert poplars, and the underground rivers in the distance intermittently visible.

Their home was here.

A house made of clay brick, with stones used to surround a bare patch of ground, marked as a courtyard, and around this courtyard there grew indistinct brush and shrubs.

A strong wind blew past the heavy felt on the roof, making a pi-pa sound.

There came the sounds of water being drawn, and a moment later the young man lifted the shabby door-screen and walked in, handing Shan Chao a bowl of water and a few pieces of naan.

"Eat."

That naan was soft, suffused with a faint gold l.u.s.tre, and young Shan Chao had never before eaten soft naan. He sniffed the rank scent of mutton, swallowing his spittle and asked: "Why did you buy me?"

—the child's voice was especially hoa.r.s.e due to the injury from the beating, once he spoke, his throat would well up with the metallic taste of dried blood.

The young man sat in a corner of the house, and after a long while said: "There is no why."

Shan Chao said vigilantly: "I am…"

"I don't need to know."

"…then what kind of person are you?"

The young man finally leant his head to look at him, yet his gaze was prolonged, as if looking past Shan Chao's small figure, to regard a distant place.

After a very long time then did he open his mouth, and his tone was extremely even:

"You don't need to know that either."

Young Shan Chao had a new owner, but no imminent sign of a beating.

At night the young man drew more water, and let Shan Chao strip, using a wet cloth to carefully wipe down his dirty body by the light of an oil-lamp. Every time it brushed a bruise, or a purpled injury, or an injury mottled with blood, Shan Chao could not help but give a hiss, which blended with the wind howling outside.

The young man put down the wet cloth after wiping, and blew the lamp out, as he said: "Sleep."

In the desert the crescent moon was big and bright, shining into the room from the window, visible even through the cracks of the shabby wall.

Young Shan Chao poked his head out of the brick bed, looking at the young man sleeping beside him on the futon.

He wore the mask even in his sleep, his cheeks shrouded in shadow, his chest undulating slightly. That long sword wrapped in rags was laid beside his pillow, with his palm resting on the scabbard, as if ready to be roused at any moment.

Shan Chao silently looked for a while, and then descended from the bed softly and quietly, circ.u.mventing the futon like a thief, walking by the young man's side, and opened the door.

The desert in the deep night was an expanse of white under the moonlight, and from afar the sea of stars was vast, the Silver River2 cutting across the horizon, with the winds carrying a cold and rank scent.

Should I run?

The burning pain in his stomach from long years of starvation was impossible to get rid of, and his injured back and legs still ached. Shan Chao lowered his head and gasped for a while, and in the end he patiently, lightly, closed the door.

He hobbled around the futon, climbed back onto the bed, and opened his eyes to look at the darkness made solid by night, as his ears carried the even breaths of the young man to him.

Young Shan Chao closed his eyes, and in his apprehension, vigilance, and great exhaustion, he quickly fell into a dark and deep dreamland.

1 ZH: 胡饼 - 'barbarian pancake', this refers to a general pancake native to the cuisines of Western Asia.

2 ZH: 银河 - Chinese name for the Milky Way.

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